May your Days be Merry and Bright
by caldera32
Summary: Happy short stories for each day of December until Christmas :)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I'm making a _Merlin_ Advent calendar :) There are pictures as well, but you'll have to go to tumblr (caldera32 dot tumblr dot com) or The Heart of Camelot to see them. Happy December, everyone :D

* * *

Freya watched Merlin approach the lake. The ripples of the water's surface and the moon's reflection obscured his form, but she would _always_ recognize him. He had been coming every year on this day since her death, often staying all night.

This year something was different, he had brought someone else- she could see Merlin beckoning them forth from the forest. A tall figure walked out, but the dark of night and a voluminous cloak concealed their features from her. She only wondered about this new person for a moment before her attention went back to her love.

He was taking out the candles now, one for each year she had been in the lake. They were disk-shaped to float on the water and Merlin placed them all carefully before nudging them further out with his magic, lighting them a moment later. But what's this? There were only eight here when there should be nine.

Brown eyes swiveled back to the shore in time to see the mysterious companion kneeling with the last candle. Hesitant hands lit the wick and pushed the light in the direction Merlin's had gone. As Freya tried to puzzle out this stranger's identity she heard them whisper two words.

"I'm sorry."

and then

"_Thank you._"


	2. Chapter 2

Two pairs of golden eyes shone in the darkness, lighting the candles placed on the table between them.

"Right, I'll just bring in the Yule log."

Morgana sniffed. "I can't believe you chose it without me."

Merlin gave a coy smile. "Do you even know what an ash tree looks like?"

"You still could have brought me along," the sorceress pouted.

"Next year," the warlock assured, ducking out the door to retrieve the wood before placing it in the hearth. "Would you like to do the honors?" He held out the remnant of the previous year's log.

The fire must be lit on the first try- was he challenging her? Morgana raised her chin defiantly and snatched the burnt wood, moving over to the fire with confidence.

Honestly, she was a bit nervous, but she certainly wasn't going to let _Merlin_ see that (little did she know he was smirking behind her back). Taking a deep breath she felt her magic tingling beneath the surface and allowed it to aid in lighting the tinder before coaxing the flames to spread to the new log.

Merlin's smile had become warm and genuine by the time she spun around, about to boast in her success. "I love you," he said softly, startling her into silence with a gentle embrace.

The witch felt her face warm and ducked her head to hide the blush. How could he say such things so easily? It vexed her.

He chuckled lightly at her reaction.

"Well, this will burn for at least twelve hours- what should _we_ do during that time?"

Morgana met his twinkling eyes and smirked.

_This_ she was much better at.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This storyline will continue for a few days :)

* * *

"Congratulations, Merlin. I've decided to make you my adviser."

The servant blinked several times in quick succession.  
"Right; and that's different from what I already do how?"

Arthur smirked, satisfied with himself.  
"Now it will be official."

"Does that mean I won't have to wash your socks?"

The king laughed.

"Does it at least mean you'll listen to me on occasion?"

"We'll see, but for the time being- Merry Christmas!"

"You're not very good at gift-giving."

"It's also not actually Christmas yet! Now get going, Merlin, my stables won't muck themselves."

"Well..."

"Just do it, idiot."

"Clotpole," the warlock muttered through a huge grin.

"_Mer_lin_._"

The thin man made his exit, enjoying Arthur's undignified squawk when a pillow 'mysteriously' flew from the bed and hit the blond upside the head.


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin leaned back against the wall, watching the rakes collecting manure into one pile as fresh straw marched into the stalls to replace the used.

"I hope that's not how you've always done it."

It had been over a month since Arthur had legalized magic, and nearly three since he had accepted Merlin's- but it would take longer than that to change a lifetime of reflexes. That being the case, the warlock yelped in surprise as he leapt away from the wall, somehow managing to trip and fall into the over-sized stack of muck. He lay there, face frozen in shock with his back pressed against the filth.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry!" Gwen moved from the window and into the stable proper, biting her lip as her face fluctuated between guilt and repressed laughter. "Here, let me help you up."

That snapped Merlin back to the present.

"No, Gwen- your dress... I can get up just fine."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Realizing what she had implied, Guinevere rushed to apologize; babbling in a way she hadn't often done since settling into her role as Queen. "Oh, no, I didn't mean that you _can't_ get up without help -only that there's no _need_ for you to when I'm right here and-"

She came to a halt as Merlin started chuckling, face bright despite his current state. It wasn't long before the blacksmith's daughter joined in, their gales of laughter soaring as they had when both were younger and times were simpler. When both had calmed somewhat and Merlin had been hauled upward the queen gave her friend a fond look.

"Go wash up, Merlin- I'll send George to collect your clothes for washing."

"I don't need someone else to do my laundry for me, Gwen."

"Just accept it, Merlin. You'll have to get used to this soon, after all."

The servant's face wrinkled in confusion.  
"What's that supposed to mean?"

She simply smirked and gave him a wink before strolling away.


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin spent the entire day feeling as if everyone else knew some great secret to which he was not privy. Friends and acquaintances beamed when they saw him, many of the knights choosing to give him hearty slaps and friendly shoves that nearly sent him to the floor on more than one occasion.

_Still as thick as ever._ He thought, massaging the bicep that had just been punched.

He had just decided to ignore it all when Percival blocked his path, saying nothing but simply grinning broadly at him and grasping his shoulders before patting them and moving on. The warlock watched him go, bemused. _Honestly, what-_

"Ah, Merlin..."

Now it was Leon. The older man cleared his throat a bit uncomfortably.

"I know we've never been particularly close, but I want you to know that I've always respected and appreciated your loyalty to Arthur."

When Merlin's only response was to stare blankly the knight nodded, also patting one shoulder before continuing down the corridor. He was only shaken from his confusion when Gwaine came along, handing him an apple and declaring, "Tavern trip tonight!"

Merlin grinned. Now _that_ made _perfect_ sense.

* * *

The sky was already beginning to lighten by the time he fell into bed, thoroughly sloshed.

Well, to be more accurate, Gwaine dropped him onto the bed before passing out on the floor himself.

* * *

In that pleasant space between waking and unconsciousness a vision was forming; he saw himself in some ridiculous fine clothing- with an absurd hat. _Okay... an odd thing to dream about, but-_

"You won't be able to talk Arthur out of making you wear the hat; I'm afraid you're going to have to destroy it."

"Lancelot!" Merlin grinned at his friend who, despite this being some odd dream world, still appeared to be not quite present as the light from the window shone through him.

"Hello, Merlin," the former knight smiled back warmly. "I see Arthur's finally noticed it's you he should be rewarding- I'm just sorry I couldn't be there to see it."

"What, you mean this whole 'Official Adviser' thing he's cooked up? I don't think it's anything to get excited over."

The other man's eyebrows rose.  
"You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?"

Lancelot opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a sudden onslaught of light and shouting.

"Rise and shine!"


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This one's a bit sub-standard. I apologize *bows*

* * *

Merlin groaned and rolled over, soon returning to snoring loudly.

"Come on then, let's have you lazy daisy!" Arthur crowed triumphantly, pulling his servant out of bed and on top of Gwaine who was finally woken by the weight.

"Merrrrrrrlin, yer layin' on me," he shoved the younger man onto the floor where he giggled and started shoving the knight in return.

"Are you two still drunk?" The king asked incredulously.

Gwaine smiled up at him, "Prolly- jus' got back..." he looked out the window, "an hour or so ago."

Merlin hiccuped and burped at the same time, face twisting in disgust at the taste.

Arthur buried his face in both hands.  
"You were only supposed to get him drunk enough he wouldn't escape. What are we going to do if he can't even walk?!"

"C'n walk jus' fine!" Merlin proclaimed, reaching for the bed post to haul himself up and missing. Gwaine laughed as he fell back to the floorboards and the warlock soon joined in.

"What am I going to do with you two idiots- Merlin?" The pale man had gone silent, a look somewhat like concentration on his face. "Are you going to be ill?"

He scoffed, "Har'ly _ever_ sick."

"It might actually be a good idea at this point."

"M'kay," and before Arthur could even grab a bucket his boots were splattered with vomit. _Lovely._

Merlin groaned as the king pulled him to his feet, marching the other man over to a wash basin and dunking his head in the cool water.

"Augh! What- Arthur? Why- what's that on your... oh," he took in the mess, Gwaine still chuckling lightly in the background.

"Feeling better? Good. Time to get ready."

"Ready for what?"

"The ceremony, of course! Look, I've had clothes made for you!" An evil grin spread across the monarch's face and Merlin stared in horror at the outfit from his dream- including the hat. Gwen held the items out to him, apologetic look on her face.

"No. I am _not_ wearing that."

"Come now, Merlin-" the warlock cut off any further cajoling with a flash of his eyes, incinerating the offending garment on the spot.

Arthur pouted. "_Mer_lin..."

"I told you," the queen rolled her eyes. "Here, Merlin- I made these for you. Arthur _insisted _on red." She pulled out a bundle of cloth and unrolled a set of tasteful robes not completely unlike what he used to wear as 'Dragoon'. He would have preferred his own clothes, but these were far better than the tabard and leggings Arthur expected him to parade around in.

"How did you-"

"I had to order George to give me your clothes after he finished cleaning them. He takes his job _very_ seriously."

Merlin, still a bit tipsy, found this more amusing than it really was and snickered for a bit before returning to the present situation as the garments were pushed into his hands.

"What's this for, anyway?"

"I told you- the ceremony. Now, we'll leave you to get ready- I've even had someone come to help straighten out that bird's nest you call hair."

"Hey!"

"Be quick about it!" Arthur called as he dragged Gwaine from the chambers, Guinevere following behind them and favoring Merlin with a smile before disappearing out the door.

He had resigned himself to his fate and was nearly finished getting into the fancy clothing when there came a soft knock on the door.  
"One moment!" He hastily stuffed his arms through the sleeves of the overcoat and unlatched the door, staring in shock at the person on the other side. "Mother!"

"Merlin," Hunith grinned broadly at her son, pulling him into a warm embrace.

"What are you doing here? Why- what are you wearing?"

His mother also seems to have been forced into clothing above her station, a fine blue dress with a matching headscarf.

"Well, I certainly couldn't come to your ennobling in peasant's clothes!" She stated off-hand, turning her attention to taming the wild locks of hair sticking at all angles from her son's head.

"My- what?!"

Hunith looked back in surprise. "Oh my, they really did it..."

"Did what?" He was becoming quite exasperated at this point and his mother, thankfully, took pity on him.

"There was talk of not telling you. The king said it was to prevent you from getting out of it, but I suspect it's a bit of revenge for keeping your secret so long."

Merlin pouted, "But I don't _want_ to be a noble- why is he doing this?"

"Shhh, just let him do this for you. He wants you to have your place on the council, wants to reward you for what you've done."

"But-"

"Accept it, Merlin."

He would have argued further, but his latent wisdom chose to shine through and he instead replied:  
"Yes, mother."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Almost at the end of this arc- hope you've been enjoying it :)

* * *

Merlin sat at the Round Table- in _his_ seat- still not quite believing he wasn't dreaming.

Arthur had just made him a _lord_ and now he was sitting at the king's right hand as they had a small celebration with friends. There had been a feast, of course, but the freshly-appointed Royal Adviser had been unable to relax under the new pressure to socialize.

The ceremony had gone about as well as could be expected for something that hadn't been rehearsed beforehand. Well, aside from Merlin tripping on the steps and sprawling onto the dais after Arthur had motioned the warlock forward to his new place beside the thrones (only because he hadn't been quite sober yet, of course).

"So, Merlin," the blond leaned against him, spilling mead in the process, "what land would you like? I'll give you your -*hic*- choice."

"Land? What would I do with land, Arthur?"

The king slung an arm around his adviser's shoulder, inadvertently sticking his nose in the other man's over-sized ear but not appearing to care. "You're a noble now, Merlin- you get land! Can't have my best friend living like a penniless peasant."

He couldn't help it, the former servant's face split into a wide grin at hearing the words 'my best friend'.

"But I _am_ a penniless peasant, Arthur- even if I have a title now."

The royal scoffed. "Nonsense! You're- the most, *hic* noble man I know!"

Merlin couldn't have smiled any bigger if he'd used magic. Arthur would be kicking himself for this if he remembered in the morning.

"You'll have per-manent chambers in, in the castle- you and Hunith, but-" he paused to belch, " but you'll also have a manor and full staff."

"Arthur, you don't-"

"It's the _least_ I can do for you, old friend."

Remembering his mother's words, Merlin gave in.

"Then... there _is_ a lake nearby that is of particular significance to me..."

"Excellent!" Arthur slapped him on the back, "We'll make it official tomorrow. But for now- drink!"

It wasn't long before Merlin, Arthur, and the knights who hadn't passed out on the floor were dancing on top of the table, singing tavern songs as the warlock sent balls of multicolored light floating about the hall. The golden age had truly begun.


	8. Chapter 8

There was a knock at the door of Merlin's new chambers- which Arthur and Percival had deposited him in the night prior. Their aim had been poor and the warlock now slumbered on his dining table- but that was a step up from Percival, who had curled up on the floor, and Arthur, who had passed out in the hallway with his arms wrapped around a statue.

Merlin groaned and rolled over, a quick burst of magic ceasing his sudden descent before he smashed into cold stone. "Coming," he croaked, eyes slitted against the slight sunlight leaking through the curtains. _Where am I?_ He gazed around for a moment before another knock came, louder than the first.

"I said I was coming," the warlock grumbled, shuffling to the door and opening it to reveal his mentor, eyebrow raised and slight smile on his face.

"Gaius!" He winced at the volume of his own voice.

"Good morning, Merlin. I brought something you might have use for," the physician held up a bottle of yellow liquid.

"Bless you," the younger man said with feeling, desperately grasping the hangover cure and swallowing it in one go. He grimaced at the combination of unsavory flavors on his tongue but sighed as his headache eased. "Thank you, Gaius."

The old man's grin broadened, "You're welcome, my boy. You certainly deserved a night of relaxation." Wrinkled hands came to rest on thin shoulders. "I want you to know how proud I am of you, Merlin. You've done _very_ well. You deserve every good thing you've received and more."

The warlock was tearing up a bit, and pulled his mentor into a warm embrace. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"You'd have managed- but I'm glad I was of some help."

Merlin simply held him tighter as the physician rubbed his ward's back before pulling away slightly.

"Now, best check your wardrobe; I believe Gwen has had some things made for you and you're expected at the royal luncheon in an hour."

"My- Gaius, are these _my_ chambers?" He spun around, taking in the lavish quarters that weren't much smaller than Arthur's own.

"He _did_ tell you he'd be giving you your own, did he not?"

"Yes, and mother, but- Gaius, this is too much."

"Merlin, you are second only to the king and queen now- you'll have to get used to all this." He patted his surrogate son gently before turning back to the door. "Oh, and your servant has been standing in the antechamber all morning- best call him in."

"My what?!"


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I wasn't planning on writing this, but your reviews just tickled my muse ;p Hopefully it will be delightfully unexpected :D

*Prepares bedding for Daydreamer91*

* * *

After Gaius had abandoned him Merlin hesitantly looked out his door to see a pair of guards and -George. _Of course he did._

The warlock cleared his throat and all three looked to him expectantly.  
"Ah, um.. guards... could you take Percival to his chambers, please?"

The pair looked at the still-snoozing giant, then at each other.  
"We're not really supposed to leave..."

"I'm sure it'll be fine- I _am_ a powerful sorcerer, after all," he quirked his lips and the guards gave in, dragging the over-sized knight away with great effort.

"Might as well come in, George."

"Of course, M'lord." Merlin rolled his eyes as the servant entered obediently, wearing the outfit that so resembled his own signature garb.

Without a the other man went to the armoire -and isn't it just ridiculous that _Merlin_, of all people, now had one?- and selected a fine blue shirt and dark trousers, draping them over the changing screen along with a leather jacket.

_Good old Gwen. _Apart from the rich materials they were nearly identical to his old clothes.  
That being the case he felt no compunction about wearing a neckerchief with them.

"Would you like me to assist you, M'lord?"

"I think I can handle it- and stop calling me that."

"Of course, My Liege."

"Seriously? I don't think that's even accurate."

"M'lord, then."

Merlin stepped out from behind the screen (another thing to get used to) and found George tidying the non-existent mess in the room.

"You can stop the act, George. I know you only do this to Arthur to wind him up."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're speaking of, M'lord."

"You _do_ realize I could make it so your trousers vanish every time you think about that maid- what was her name again... Eylis?"

The servant managed to maintain his look of slightly-appalled innocence for only a moment before breaking into a smile and chuckling.  
"Alright, you win- but surely you won't blame me for trying? Or are you too high-and-mighty for such frivolity now, _Master_?"

Merlin groaned. "I swear I'll follow up on that threat if you _ever_ call me that again. Besides- your pranks wouldn't be half as successful without my help."

George raised his hands in surrender, "I concede. Is there anything else you need?"

"Someone to convince Arthur this is all a terrible idea."

The other man drew himself up, standing in 'proper servant' stance once more.  
"I'm afraid I cannot, in good conscience, give my king such poor council."  
He locked eyes with the man who was now his superior, gaze earnest, "You deserve it, Merlin."

"Thank you," his voice was warm and sincere, his smile bright.  
It touched the warlock's heart to hear that George, at the very least, did not begrudge him his elevated status.

"Well, I'd best be off. Can't keep the prat waiting."

He was already in the corridor when an important task came to mind and he popped back through the doorway to find George slipping something suspicious under the bed linens. _I wouldn't expect any less._

The servant pretended to be smoothing the coverlet, whistling innocently.

"First, you're not fooling anyone; second, I _do_ have a job for you- go through the cupboards and burn any hats you find."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: The end to this little arc, hope you've all enjoyed it :)

* * *

To the outside world it looked like a political marriage, Camelot's royal adviser claiming the hand of the princess of a country which had just yielded sovereignty to that nation, but anyone who saw the pair could tell they were deeply in love.

Merlin and Mithian had seen much of each other during the negotiations to put Nemeth under Arthur's rule, and the spark that had formed in their earlier meetings grew into a roaring flame. Rodor had encouraged the match and Hunith had beamed with joy for her son; thus they found themselves in their current place- walking out of the chapel at Merlin's manor, not far from the lake of Avalon.

The warlock had felt a bit guilty about it at first, apologizing to Freya until she made an appearance and told him to move on with his life. Now he was simply too elated to have room for any negative emotion.

Mithian tugged on his arm, saving him from missing a step in his reflective state. He smiled at her and watched his feet more carefully- not wanting a repeat of the mishap at his ennoblement.

Once again he had been forced to wear absurd finery- even a ceremonial dagger. He couldn't wait to be rid of the troublesome raiment. He was even _more_ interested in being rid of Mithian's, but that was for entirely different reasons. Her lavishly-embroidered white gown was stunning, but it was nothing in comparison to the wearer.

"You've got a ridiculous grin on your face- what are you thinking about?" Mithian whispered, continuing to wave for the crowd.

"I'll tell you when we get to our chambers," he replied, waggling his eyebrows.

The princess giggled and swatted him lightly, "Behave!"

"Only for a little while longer," he teased.

Gwaine chose that moment to give a loud wolf-whistle as Arthur rolled his eyes and Gwen smiled gleefully at the pair's secret exchange.

"Save it until you're in private, you two!"

"It's _my_ estate, I'll flirt with my wife if I wish!" Merlin replied, unruffled by his friend's heckling.

"You wouldn't know how to flirt if-" the rest was cut off as Guinevere covered his mouth and looked kindly upon the newlyweds before stepping aside to reveal a trail of rose petals leading to the chambers Merlin and Mithian would now share.

"We're very happy for you both," she assured, "now off with you!"

The couple smiled even wider, Merlin sweeping his spouse up into his arms and carrying her over the threshold.

"You know, Merlin, I once said I would give up my kingdom to be so loved," blue eyes met warm brown, "and you are worth so much more than that."

He held her tighter, lowering his head to plant a row of kisses on her neck.  
"And you, Mithian, I will love for all eternity."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: And Merlin's back to being a servant, poor lad ;)

* * *

Gwaine was definitely _not_ perfecting his food-stealing pulley system when Merlin burst into his chambers.  
Then again, it was _Merlin_... yeah, that was exactly what he was doing.

"Merlin! Good to see you!" The servant had a book clutched in one hand, mischievous smile lighting up his face.  
"What's got you all excited?" The trouble-making knight could feel an answering grin stretching his own lips.

"Read this," Merlin opened the tome and stabbed the page with one finger.  
Gwaine scanned the words quickly, glee overflowing and making him giggle as he came to the conclusion.

"Oh this is just _perfect."_

* * *

Arthur groaned, rolling over in bed as Merlin clattered through the door.  
"_Mer_lin..."

The servant seemed to be repressing a smile as he asked, "You're awake?"

"I don't think I slept a wink. I thought adding those extra mattresses was supposed to make it _more_ comfortable. It felt like there was a _rock_ digging into my back all night."

There- he had definitely snorted just then, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

"Is something funny, Merlin?"

"No, nothing. Why would I be laughing? Nothing's funny."

The king rolled his eyes but let it go.  
"I want you to be rid of all this immediately. My bed was perfectly fine before _and it had better be again._"

"Of course, Sire."

Merlin had removed the spare mattresses and was re-making the bed when Arthur saw him surreptitiously reach underneath, pulling out a closed fist.

"What did you just do?"

The servant jumped slightly and spun around, hiding his hands behind his back.  
"Um, nothing! Just straightening the linens!"

"Did you put something in my bed yesterday?"

"What? Why would you think that? I don't know wh-"

"_Mer_lin."

"I... may have found a little something underneath there- but it's nothing to worry about! All taken care of now," he smiled broadly, hoping to quash the oncoming confrontation.

"Just show me what it is, Merlin."

Giving up his flimsy ruse, the thin man held out one hand to reveal a small green sphere.

"What is _that_?"

"It's ah... it's a pea."

"What?"

"Nothing to worry about, as I said. All gone now- as I should be. Too many chores need doing to be standing here chatting!" He shoved the 'pea' into his pocket and turned away, grabbing the laundry basket and making good his escape.

"Merlin- Merlin!"

Ignoring his master's shouts, the warlock managed to contain his laughter until he turned a corner and ducked into the alcove where Gwaine was waiting.

"Well?"

Merlin snickered, "It's confirmed. Arthur is a genuine princess."

* * *

S/A/N: For any of you who are confused right now, look up "The Princess and the Pea" (sorry, I'm hoping it's enough of a well-known story to make sense to most of you)


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: In response to a prompt- almost certainly not what LFB72 had in mind, but here it is anyway ;)  
And hey, if you have anything you'd like to see in an Advent story please do say so! I only have the last five solidly planned out so there's space for requests :)

* * *

"But father, we don't even know if that merchant was telling the truth."

Uther looked at his son with suspicion. "Can you not see the garments?"

Arthur spluttered for a moment before managing to reply, "Of _course_ I can see them. I'm just saying we have no way of knowing if these are anything other than ordinary cloth."

"Hm. Perhaps you are correct. Guard!" One of the ever-present soldiers entered the room and bowed.  
"Summon the court physician." Another bow and the man was gone.

"We'll have our answer soon enough."

The two royals stared at each other in tense silence as they waited, Merlin busying himself in one corner to hide the laughter fighting to be free.

Gaius arrived before long, stopping inside the door. "You called, Si- why are you naked?"

The king gave a short bark of laughter. "See? It works! The clothing is visible to all but those who have magic!"

The physician's eyes flicked over to his ward, shaking ever-so-slightly in what he presumed to be a fit of nerves.

"Forgive me, Sire, but what is this all about?"

"This is perfect, Gaius. In a moment I will address my people and all those who cannot see my raiment will be rounded up and executed for their sorcery -with the exception of yourself, of course."

"Pardon my ignorance, My Lord. How will you know they cannot see?"

"Arthur and the knights will carefully observe all the people and their reactions when I step out onto the balcony. I have every confidence they will note a difference between the good people and any foul sorcerers."

And that was when Gaius gave up.

"Ah. Well, if there is nothing else you require of me then I shall take my leave."

The king nodded and the old man made his exit.

Merlin had to bite his hand to keep from erupting in a fit of giggles when Uther turned to his son with a wide smile.

"Just think, Arthur- we could get _you_ a set of these clothes to wear out on patrol!"


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Still accepting requests :) Here's another fairytale story (of sorts) since people seemed to like that theme

* * *

Arthur straightened his collar and knocked on the door nervously. There was something about Hunith that just... well, she didn't _intimidate_ him, of course, never that. He shifted uncomfortably.

Why haven't they answered the door yet? The hut certainly wasn't _that _large.

"Hello?" He knocked again.

No answer.

Sighing in exasperation, the king pushed the door open and entered the small home. It was cold and dark- the fire in the hearth naught but embers.

_That's it then, they've simply gone out for more wood._

Spying a candle he lit it and searched for a chair to sit in.

He spied a stool first- far too small for his well-toned frame, certainly. Ah, a chair.

The warrior collapsed into the chair, then onto the floor, the poor furniture unable to accommodate the sudden weight. Arthur sat in shock for a moment, then guiltily eyed the wooden remains beneath him before hastily sweeping them into a corner. He gingerly tested the last chair- it held. Now to see what was in the bowls on the table- still steaming slightly.

Porridge. Not exactly his favorite food, but he _had_ just journeyed from Camelot and was rather hungry. Then again, perhaps he should wait for his hosts... a grumbling stomach settled the matter and Arthur pulled a bowl toward him.

_Ugh- grainy and bland._

He looked around to see if Merlin and Hunith had miraculously appeared before testing out the second bowl.

_How are there so many lumps? And what are_ _those odd green things?_

He wasted no time in shoving that bowl away, taking a swig from his water skin to wash out the taste.

_One last try..._

Well, it was edible.

After polishing off his dinner the royal took a stroll around the tiny space, trying not to look at the mess he had made of the chair.

_Where are they?_

He went outside and gazed into the forest, not being able to see anything in the limited moonlight. He briefly considered searching for them, but decided it would only lead to trouble since he had no torch and no knowledge of the area.

Re-entering the cottage he gazed longingly at the bed. He really was quite tired... but no, he couldn't take the most comfortable spot and leave the floor to a lady. Skipping the pile of straw and blanket that was likely Merlin's sleeping space, he settled onto the comparatively luxurious stack of worn furs and blankets that had been prepared for him, intending to nap. Rest, however, eluded him.

Huffing in frustration he got up and paced for a short time, once again eying the bed.  
Well, it would only be until mother and son returned...

That small bit of mental justification was all it took for the king to bundle himself into the cot and fall asleep.

* * *

"Sorry, mother, I didn't think it would take that long."

"Don't worry, Merlin. You said Gaius couldn't get these herbs in Camelot, yes? Then it was worth the extra time."

"I hope so. Arthur's bound to have arrived- he's probably broken all your pots by now."

Hunith gave her son a light slap on the shoulder.  
"Come now, I'm sure that's not true."

"You'll see," he mumbled in return, shifting the wood in his arms to open the door for his mother.

The sound of snoring filled the air and the pair grinned at each other, wordlessly deciding to let the man sleep as they ate supper.

"Where's my-" Merlin stopped, prompting his mother to look at him.

"What's the- oh, where's your chair?"

The warlock pointed to the new pile of kindling in the corner, muttering 'even worse than the pot'.

"Oh my," Hunith commented mildly.

Merlin snorted and pulled up the stool instead, the two of them eating in silence and leaving the dishes for morning before moving toward the sleeping area.

"I can't believe he took the bed!" The servant exclaimed, incredulous.

"Hush, just let him have it. He _is_ a king."

"But-"

"Just come here, it'll be like old times again."

Smiling softly, the two settled down together.

* * *

When Arthur woke to find mother and son curled up on the floor together he felt a pang of regret- a feeling that was amplified when he caught sight of the seat he had ruined the previous night.

Well, that just wouldn't do.

Moving with well-honed stealth, he went out to his pack and brought in a bulging sack before getting to work.

* * *

Merlin wasn't sure what had woken him- the sun hadn't quite risen yet- then he heard the muffled curses coming from outside and smelled the alluring scent of cooking meat.

"Mother?" His sleep-fuzzed brain produced.

"Mmmm?" Hunith mumbled, snuggling against him and only partly waking.

"I think Arthur's made breakfast for us- though I may still be dreaming."

"Hm?" She woke more fully upon smelling the food, both of them rising to investigate.

The kettle was bubbling merrily in the hearth and the dishes were cleaned and laid out, ready to receive the completed stew.

Further expletives drew the pair outside where Arthur was trying to repair the furniture he had broken, somehow managing to make it look worse than it had as a pile of sticks.

"I think that's a lost cause," Merlin offered helpfully, smiling down at his friend.

Arthur startled, jerking his hands and sending the chair-skeleton tumbling apart.  
"Ah, I was just, um... good morning!" He smiled hesitantly.

Hunith laughed lightly and stepped forward to hug the monarch.

"It is good to see you, Your Majesty."

"The pleasure is all mine," he replied gallantly, "and please, call me Arthur."

Hunith grinned at him.  
"Come now, leave that and we can all have breakfast together."

"But-"

Merlin chose that moment to interject.  
"Don't even try arguing, Arthur. I know how much you hate losing to women."

Arthur's eyebrows rose, then he chuckled and threw an arm around his servant, all three making their way inside to enjoy the food (though Merlin had to stand).

As the king sat, carefree, in a peasant's home he realized he had never felt more accepted in his life. He had not previously known how to describe his relationship with these two, but now the perfect word was obvious.

_Family._


	14. Chapter 14

Gwen choked back a sob. It had been hard since her father had died, but she had somehow been able to keep the forge open by doing odd jobs. Now, however, she was looking at the last of her metal- just enough to make one dagger. She dried her tears and set the tools out, ready to be used in the morning before she went to work at the castle, then slipped into bed.

Come daybreak the servant rose to find an ornate dagger and sheath had replaced the materials she left out the night before. Confused, she searched for some sign of what had happened, but only discovered her tools still in place with the materials gone. It _seemed_ as if someone had done her work for her- even better than she could have- but how was that possible without leaving a trace or waking her with the sounds of the forge?

For the moment she simply sent up a quick prayer of thanks and left to deliver the dainty weapon to her patron, who was so impressed he paid extra. In fact, he paid enough she could buy materials for two _more_ daggers, which she did without hesitation. Even if it was for but one more day she would extend her father's legacy. The smithy had been in the family for several generations and was one of the few remaining links to her father.

Once again she returned home and laid out the ingots she had purchased, the tools still in place from the day previous, and went to bed with a light heart.

She woke just before dawn and once again found her forging done; fine work ready and waiting for her inspection. There was little doubt she'd be able to sell both them at market that morning.

When Guinevere returned in the evening she set up the metal she had purchased- enough for two short swords- and retreated inside, crouching behind her door and peering through the key-hole to catch sight of her benefactor.

It was well into the night by the time she heard movement on the other side, only the faintest outline of a person visible in the moonlight before a soft light flared and revealed a familiar face.

_Merlin?_

She almost gave herself away, just barely containing her gasp of surprise- particularly when he picked up the ingots and whispered something as his eyes lit up, shaping the metal to his will. Gwen froze, completely incapable of moving until Merlin left, another spell erasing his footprints from the dirt floor.

The maidservant flung herself away from the door, heart racing as fast as her thoughts.

_Merlin- magic? Merlin? Magic?!_

Grabbing hold of her washbasin she plunged her face into the chill water, coming up much more coherent.

Clearly something must be done about this.

* * *

Merlin smiled as he passed Gwen in the corridor, glad to see how much happier she had been the past few days- and pleased that she didn't seem to suspect him.

He had been so _sure_ he'd sensed someone last night after making the swords, but hadn't been keen to investigate and possibly cause his own discovery. However, here was Guinevere smiling brightly as if all was right with the world whilst he himself remained un-imprisoned with all limbs intact so clearly his secret must be safe.

Still, maybe he shouldn't go for a few nights... then he thought of Gwen's face, radiant with joy, and tossed the idea aside.

That night found him sneaking into the forge once more- only this time, instead of metal, he found a brand new coat laid out on the workbench and a note.

Looking around nervously and finding no one he picked up the bit of parchment.

_Merlin,_

He nearly dropped the missive and ran right then and there, but had just enough reason remaining to keep him in place. Surely if Gwen- and this was certainly her rough writing- had intended to turn him in she would have done so by now, right? He swallowed thickly and continued his reading.

_Merlin,_

_Thank you. Yes, I saw you last night. Don't be afraid. Your secret is safe with me.  
You have helped me see what is really important. I do not need to keep this forge running to keep my father's memory alive- and I don't need to dwell on what has passed. Not when I have such a great friend by my side._

_Please accept this gift in return for your aid.  
I will no longer be running the smithy so do take greater care to not get caught._

_Ever your friend,  
Gwen_

The warlock blinked back tears and crumpled the note in one fist, incinerating the potentially-incriminating letter with a thought before cautiously fingering the fine material of the jacket. It was easily worth more than his entire wardrobe. _Oh Gwen..._ He wiped his nose before smiling widely and gathering the fabric in his arms, making his way back to the physician's chambers.

They never talked about the note or the magical weapons-forging, but everyone noticed how much closer the two became; more like devoted siblings than simple friends. And when Merlin was finally recognized as Camelot's Ambassador of Magic, no one glowed with more pride than Queen Guinevere.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: One more request fulfilled ;) Send more if you've got 'em!

* * *

Leon stared at the pond in consternation. He knew the key had fallen at this end of the water but he couldn't see it for the life of him. It was beginning to look like the only option would be to get in and search by hand. He grumbled and began stripping off his gloves when a high-pitched voice interrupted him.

"Excuse me- perhaps I could help?"

The knight turned about, confused as the sound seemed to have come from the pond.

"Down here."

A frog. There was a frog talking to him. For a moment he was too shocked to move, then he drew his sword and looked about wildly.

"What sorcery is this? Show yourself!"

The frog seemed to shrink in on itself a bit.  
"Ah, it's just me. Sorry if I've upset you."

Leon, keeping his sword up, looked at the creature in uncertainty.  
"What manner of beast are you?"

"Just a frog, nothing to worry about. I saw your key just now- I could fetch it."

"And why would you do that?"

"Well, I could use a place to stay. Somewhere safe and comfortable. Will you take me home with you, feed me your own food, and let me sleep on your bed if I retrieve the key?"

The knight considered his options; on the one hand this was a potentially dangerous magical creature, on the other he _really_ needed that key. Well, it should be relatively simple to dispose of the frog should it prove troublesome- and wasn't it better to keep an eye on it regardless?

"Then you have my thanks- I will make you this promise."

It took the animal little more than a few heartbeats to dive and return with the piece of metal between its lips. Hopping onto the grass is looked up expectantly until Leon bent over and scooped it up in his palm.

"Right, well... to Camelot then."

* * *

Yes, the servants looked at him strangely when he shared his plate with the frog and requested an extra pillow for its spot in the bed, but Sir Leon was a man of his word.

Merlin himself had brought the spare cushion, looking at the frog with interest.  
"A guest?" He asked lightly.

"Yes," the knight was slightly embarrassed, but he certainly wasn't going to lie about it.  
"I have agreed to take care of it."

"Well, make sure you do a good job," the servant said enigmatically, leaving the room with a twinkle in his eye.

That had been three days ago and Leon had begun to grow accustomed to his amphibious bedfellow, so much so that he was a bit concerned when he woke to found its pillow unoccupied.

"Frog?" It suddenly seemed odd to him that he hadn't asked the animal's name- did it even have one?

"Here."

The voice was deeper than before, but recognizable- so the knight was even more surprised when he found a woman standing at the foot of his bed, trying to cover herself with the bed curtains.

His eyes widened before he slapped a hand over them and began babbling incoherently.

The woman chuckled a bit and took the opportunity to grab a nearby cloak, wrapping it about herself.  
"It's alright, you can look."

"Ah... um... what? How..."

"Oh! Yes, I was cursed to be a frog until someone would be kind enough to take me home, feed me from their plate, and let me sleep in their bed for three days- which you have done. So... here I am!" She laughed nervously. "Say something?"

"Ah, you... you're... beautiful," the curly-haired man flushed, pulling the blankets up to hide his face.

The woman blushed from head to toe, hiding her shy smile with the cloak.  
"Thank you, Sir Leon. I appreciate your chivalry. You have treated me with honor these past days. I- I should like to repay you."

The knight cautiously met her eyes as she continued.

"I have a substantial dowry, I'm certain I could persuade my father to pay you from it."

Leon, feeling bold in the face of her earnestness, rose from the bed to kneel in front the lady.  
"My Lady, if I am to receive your dowry, I should like it to be for the proper reason. Would you allow me to court you?"

Her blush deepened and she nodded before offering her hand, which he kissed.  
Gallant moment over, he once again became aware that she was naked beneath the cloak and he was in his night clothes.

"I- I'll have some clothing brought for you." He cracked the door open and spied only one servant walking by- a rather familiar servant at that.

"Merlin," he hissed, motioning the younger man over. He had a basket of laundry in his arms.

"Yes, Sir Leon?"

"I am in need of a dress- not for myself, of course."

"Of course," the servant grinned. "I actually have a few right here that won't be missed. I could leave them with you and pick up whatever doesn't suit later."

"Are you certain? I wouldn't want to get you in trouble."

"Yes," he passed the basket through the gap in the door, "please take what you need."

"I thank you, Merlin."

"No need. You just take care of your lady friend, Sir Leon," he winked and took off down the hall, whistling cheerfully.

Not for the first time Leon wondered just how much Merlin knew about what went on in Camelot, then shrugged it off in favor of the matter at hand.

"I'm sure we can find something in here that will do the job," he said, averting his eyes as he sorted through the garments. Thinking, unwillingly, of his own time in a dress, an alarming question occurred to him.

Who was going to help her put it on?


	16. Chapter 16

Balinor gazed at his beloved as she smiled and laughed, lustrous curls seeming to come alive as the breeze toyed with her dark locks.

She had once had a bow to tie it back, which made her curls pile up in a way noble women would envy, but that had been sold to buy food.

He sighed, thinking of the thick silk ribbon seen at a peddler's stall that morning- likely long enough for a sash as well as a hairband. The entire afternoon had been spent hunting for something to barter for the item, but in the end he had only one thing valuable enough. He found himself wishing he hadn't been so quick to be rid of the fine clothing he had been wearing when he escaped Camelot. He'd been desperate for money and glad to be rid of anything that made him stick out, but he could have gotten more for them if he'd been patient- maybe even still had something to trade today.

Well, no sense berating himself now. He indulged in a final lingering look at the sole remaining physical link to his dragonlord heritage before heading back to the market.

* * *

Hunith watched as Balinor walked away- now was her chance.

She had been lucky such a rare craftsman had been passing through at this time and was willing to pay her- for she had no other way to afford a gift for her love.

She had found the perfect item as well. It was a fine whetstone carved to resemble a dragon, a leather thong making it wearable around the neck as well as on a belt.

Balinor loved to carve, spending his free moments forming wood into all manner of fanciful creatures. His knife, itself an exquisite object made from a dragon's tooth, had been growing dull as of late and she had not failed to notice.

She spotted the artisan just ahead and waved.  
He smiled and pulled out his scissors, "Ready?"

She nodded.

* * *

Dinner was laid out and Hunith fidgeted in excitement, anticipating Balinor's face when he saw the gift she had gotten him.

It wasn't long before the dark-haired man burst through the entrance with a wide smile, turning to quickly secure the door against the winter wind.

"Welcome home," the woman grinned, rising to embrace him.

"I've- what's happened to your hair?"

Hunith's smile faltered, he sounded _horrified_. Had she made a mistake?

"I, I sold it to the wig-maker," she spun around, grabbing a parcel from the table and holding it out before she could lose courage, "to buy you this."

Moving unnaturally slowly, the dragonlord took hold of the gift and removed the rag it was wrapped in to reveal the carved stone. "Oh, Hunith..."

Words failed him. How had this happened?

"You don't like it?" He face was falling quickly and it broke his heart.

"No! No, it's... I traded my knife to get you this." A package appeared from somewhere within his coat and Hunith took it uncertainly, unwinding it to find a generous length of green silk.

"Balinor! This..."

"It was supposed to be for your hair," he added ruefully.

They stared at each other for several moments before they both started to chuckle.

"Oh, we're a right pair, aren't we?" Hunith forced out between giggles.

"So it seems."

Once the laughter had calmed they held each other tightly, reveling in the other's presence.

Hands gentle, Balinor took the ribbon from his beloved's hands and gave her a wink before muttering a quick spell that made the fabric fold in on itself, green strands breaking and reconnecting to form a solid rectangle of silk.

"There," he tied the scarf around her head, kissing her nose and making her chuckle again. Hunith then took the whetstone and looped it over Balinor's head, nodding in satisfaction upon finding the pendant suited him.

"Not a complete loss then," she smiled.

"With you here it could never be," he bent down to nuzzle her neck.

"Oh stop," she swatted him playfully, then kissed his hair. "Merry Christmas, you old fool."

Balinor's grin grew as his lips made their way up to find hers, "Merry Christmas, my love."


	17. Chapter 17

"I really don't think this is a good idea, Will."

"You heard our mums talking, Merlin- we've no food for Christmas. Didn't we agree we'd find something for them?"

"Yes, but-"

"It's an entire house made of bread!" He took a bite of the shingle he'd torn off. "Cake, actually- even better!" The sandy-haired youth began tearing off more shingles, stuffing them inside his thin jacket.

"Will, it's a _house_. Don't you think someone might live here? Besides, it's bound to belong to someone and I doubt they'll be best pleased by you stealing bits of it."

"Don't be daft, Merlin. Who would live in a house made of cake?" Ignoring the issue of ownership, Will began chewing on an icicle. "I think this might be sugar!"

Merlin sighed and was about to help his friend when the front door opened and an old woman walked out, looking just as surprised as the two children.

They blinked at each other until Merlin, never one to leave a silence unfilled, smiled cautiously.

"Emmm... Merry Christmas?"

The woman laughed, slapping her knee in mirth. Will and Merlin had just hesitantly joined in when the elder calmed.

"Ho, my lads- hungry, are ye? An' cold too, I'd wager. Come inside and I'll get ye some soup."

"Oh we couldn't possibly-"

Will shoved Merlin aside, stepping past the woman and into the soft abode.

"Will..." the warlock groaned, now having little choice but to follow.

Both boys fidgeted as the woman stirred a pot over her hearth- a proper stone one, thankfully- before plunking two bowls down in front of them.

"There ye be, eat up!"

Will began slurping the soup straight away. Merlin wanted to refuse, but it really had been a harsh winter and he _was_ quite hungry. He eyed his friend for a few moments and, no ill effects being observed, consumed his own bowl's contents.

Hunger sated, both boys now felt guilty.

"I'm sorry... we've no way to pay you," Will looked down into his lap, twisting the hem of his shirt in nervous hands.

"Och, don't worry yerselves none. I've plenty and none to share it with. Just- keep an ol' woman company fer a bit?"

The pair looked at each other. They had some time before it started getting dark...

"Of course."

And so they regaled her with stories of their conflicts with old man Simmons, adventures in the forest, and their families. The elder's eyes seemed to grow a bit misty at the last, but her smile was fond.

After what seemed like no time at all the woman stood abruptly and turned from the table, lifting something down from a peg on the wall.

"Well, it's getting late now so ye'd best be gettin' back home. Here," she thrust a small brace of rabbits into Will's hands, "enjoy yer celebrations."

Will stared at the gift in shock as Merlin protested.

"You've given us so much already, we-"

"Take it," the woman smiled and patted both boys on the head.

The dark-haired youth shuffled his feet a bit before replying.

"Then, ah... perhaps we could visit another time- just to talk!" He added the last quickly, not wanting it to seem as if her were looking for more presents.

She chuckled. "I 'spect we won' be meetin' again, but if we do 'twould make me glad."

Both boys smiled, each giving her a shy hug before turning and running out the door, waving and yelling "thank you!" as they went.

The old witch beamed and answered quietly.

"Thank _you_, Emrys."


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Guys, tragedy has struck- my internet is down at home. D:  
Thankfully I could post this at work. We'll see how this pans out until things are fixed.

* * *

Merlin looked about the woods, torch held high. There'd been attacks on travelers for the past several nights, none dead but many severely injured. Gaius had said the wounds seemed to indicate a large animal, though his patients had been unable to provide any coherent description aside from 'glowing eyes' and 'wings'.

He tugged at the bright red cloak Gaius had forced upon him, saying the night was too cold to go out with only his jacket for protection. So far it had only been cumbersome, but if nothing else it should serve to attract the beast's attention. The warlock was not certain whether that was a good or a bad thing.

Deep growling coming from behind made him freeze in his tracks. He readied torch and magic both, waiting until the snarls were a little bit closer before spinning and brandishing the flaming wood.

When the light hit the creature he nearly lost his hold.

"Freya?" He hardly dared to hope- but it was certainly a bastet, and it _felt_ like her. "Freya, is that you?" He had spent weeks searching for her after she fled, not wanting Merlin to abandon his home for her sake, but had been unable to find any sign before now. He had feared her dead.

The large feline had paused, fangs still bared but no longer looking quite so hostile, sniffing the air.

"Freya, it's me- Merlin. You remember?"

All at once the bastet relaxed, hesitantly slinking forward to nuzzle the servant who laughed and scratched behind her ears.  
"It _is_ you!" Then, realizing what he was doing, he dropped his hands. "Sorry."

Freya simply purred happily as she formed a circle around him with her body, nudging his hand until he resumed the petting.

"Oi!" He laughed as one of her wings smacked him in the face before she folded them carefully and sat, gazing up expectantly.

"Freya..." his tone gained a melancholy edge, "was it you attacking travelers these past few nights?" He was uncertain how much she could understand in her current form, but the way her head lowered and turned away seemed to be a 'yes'.

"It's alright- it wasn't your fault. Hey, look at me." He knelt down and gently turned her face to meet his. "None of them died. They will all be okay. Understand?"

In response she simply buried her face in his shoulder, making soft whimpering noises.

"Shhh, shhh. It'll all be fine now. We can fix this." He hugged her close. "I'm so glad you came back; now I can cure you."

The bastet reared back in shock, pupils narrowed to pinpricks.

"Yes, I found a cure."

The black head tilted in question and Merlin smiled.

"The curse was born out of hatred and grief- it can be overcome with love and joy," he took a shaky breath, suddenly nervous. "Freya- may I kiss you?"

Sure, they'd done it before, but it had been a spur-of-the-moment sort of thing and he hadn't thought it through beforehand. Actually _asking_ was making his stomach roil.

Freya leaned forward, tenderly nosing his cheek.  
Merlin took that as an invitation and turned to kiss her forehead, fur tickling his skin.  
No reaction could be seen at first so he kissed her again and again until a hand reached up to grasp his, so tightly he thought it might break.

"Freya..."

She was turning back, though the agony on her face showed the change was not easy. Merlin held her close, fingers carding through ever-longer tresses as he murmured soothing words and she choked back screams. It was only a few moments, but still all too long before she settled and fell asleep in his arms. Tenderly he wrapped his beloved in the cloak and swept her up into his arms, kissing her forehead once more.

_This time I _will_ take care of you._


	19. Chapter 19

Merlin chuckled as Aithusa came to rest on his arm like a trained hawk. Not too long ago she had been able to perch comfortably on his shoulders, now it was all he could do to hold her this way for a few moments.

Yes, she seemed to be growing so fast- it was barely even a year since he had called her forth from the egg. She had quickly learned how to fly and perform basic spells, but one skill still eluded her. Speech.

"When will she start speaking?" He asked Kilgharrah one night, the three of them meeting in what he had come to think of as "The Dragon's Glen"- a vale just far enough away from the city to be safe from prying eyes.

"Most dragons were able to speak the human tongue fluently by their second year- but I fear it will take young Aithusa longer."

"Why is that?" Merlin asked, head snapping up to face the elder.

"Simply a matter of exposure, young warlock. You are the only human she hears, and that but sparingly."

The servant lowered his head in regret, "I really _do_ wish I could spend more time with her, but you know how it is if I leave Arthur alone for even so much as a day."

"There is little that can be done about this matter, she will simply have to learn as best she can from the two of us."

Merlin sighed and, sensing his mood, the baby dragon nuzzled his face until he smiled and laughed.  
"Alright you- that's enough. Why don't you hop down before my arm falls off?"

She nipped his ear lightly and squawked at him before jumping down, flapping to soften her landing then twining about his legs like a cat.

"Incorrigible," he muttered but gave in, sitting on the ground and absent-mindedly scratching under her chin as he stewed.

Later that night, with the two dragons safely tucked away in their cave, Aithusa projected her thoughts at her guardian.

"You want to know what was making him sad?"

She squeaked in affirmation.

"He is sorry that you cannot yet speak to him the way humans speak to each other- he feels it is his fault."

The white dragon mewled in protest.

"Yes, _I_ know that- he just has a habit of blaming himself. Now come, time to rest." The elder lifted his wing and Aithusa settled against his side before being enveloped in Kilgharrah's warm protection.

* * *

Despite Merlin's growing penchant for calling him at any and all hours, The Great Dragon had yet to grow accustomed to waking quickly. Thus it was that, despite the sensation of movement against his body, it took him quite some to realize exactly what was happening. When he did, however, he was instantly alert.

"Aithusa?" He rose and checked every corner of the cave, looking beneath himself as if afraid he had stepped on her. "Aithusa, where are you?"

Fear, overcoming the desire to remain undiscovered, drove him out of the cave and into the bright morning sky.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Kilgharrah, I tried to get here sooner but Arthur was being a prat. Why have you called?"  
He looked around, expecting to be tackled by a small white blur at any moment. "Where's Aithusa?"

"That is the problem, young warlock- I do not know."

"What?"

"She left this morning and I have not been able to locate her since."

Merlin nodded, brow furrowed. "I'll call her."  
Throwing back his head, he roared out the summons and commanded the infant by name.

It wasn't long before a small white form descended from the sky, landing in front of the waiting pair.

"Aithusa..." the servant was torn between being relieved and being stern. "Where have you been?"

She was clearly trying to look contrite, but a twitching tail betrayed her excitement. Chirping softly, she moved closer to sit directly in front of her dragonlord.

"Mmmer-win."

Merlin froze, staring at the small creature in shock.  
She frowned, deciding to give it another go.

"Mer-lin. Merlin!"

She smiled and gamboled about, squawking happily.  
Merlin's lips quirked in joy, eyes getting a bit misty.

"She said my name," he whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

"Yes," the elder agreed, so surprised he couldn't utter more than the single word.

Many years later Merlin recounted this story to Guinevere when her first child began to speak, a simple gurgling 'Mumumumumum' whenever she came into view. Arthur, of course, had been eavesdropping and didn't hesitate to interrupt with a comment about children saying their mother's name first (he'd always known Merlin was a girl).

The king had donkey ears for the rest of the week.


	20. Chapter 20

Servants whirled about each other holding plates of food and baskets of laundry, engaged in an elaborate dance that ensured all reached their place in time and intact- even Merlin, who was currently lofting the king's dinner while making eyes at the queen's servant (performing a similar balancing act across the corridor).

Sefa grinned and winked at him, reaching the relatively empty space outside the royal apartments first and waiting by the door.

"After you, m'lady," he inclined his head while pushing the antechamber door open with one elbow. She giggled lightly and stepped through, allowing him to move ahead and open the interior door for her as well.

"Still haven't learned to knock, Merlin?" Arthur commented without looking up.

"Beg your pardon, Your Majesty," the maidservant apologized, curtseying as best she could with her hands otherwise occupied.

"Don't mind him. You know he just says that because he can't think of anything new to complain about."

"_Mer_lin-"

"Yes, yes. Come eat and you'll feel better."

The king rolled his eyes but moved to sit at the table, waiting a few moments for Guinevere to arrive before partaking.  
Sefa and Merlin had both taken up their posts to the side, pitchers at the ready, when the queen turned to them with a smile.

"You two should go and eat while you can- I think Arthur and I can manage for a while."

Merlin's raised eyebrow made his thoughts on that matter clear- at least as far as Arthur was concerned- but nevertheless offered his arm to Sefa and the two of them strolled out.

"I told you!" Gwen whispered excitedly after the door closed, smiling gleefully.

"What? That Merlin's taken a fancy to your maidservant?" The blond grumbled, still focused on getting food into his stomach.

"Oh, Arthur; didn't you see the way they couldn't keep their eyes off one another? They're _both_ completely smitten."

Arthur snorted. "Who would _ever_ be smitten by _Mer_lin?"

The queen sat up, looking at her husband with disapproval. "_I_ was. Quite badly too... You're just lucky he didn't notice."

The king was still spluttering, spraying wine all over himself, when Guinevere stood with mischief in her eyes.

"I'm going to follow them."

"Guinevere- wait! You don't even know where they've gone!"

"_You_ may not, but _I_ certainly know where servants go to have a romantic moment in private."  
She winked and was gone.

Arthur sighed, looking regretfully at the meal he had yet to finish before following his wife.

* * *

"I can't believe it," and this was about the third time he had said as much since beginning to spy on the manservant and his... date.

He had expected to see something funny- the idiot being awkward and embarrassing himself, most likely- but by all appearances Merlin was actually being _charming_. They couldn't actually hear what was being said, but the adoring looks being cast the younger man's way supported that theory.

Arthur was about to suggest they leave the two in peace (before he became thoroughly sickened) when Merlin pulled a rose from inside his jacket, leaning forward to offer it to his lady. Sefa blushed and moved closer so the two were almost touching, then- Arthur turned away. He _definitely_ wasn't watching this bit.

"Guinevere..."

"Why don't you ever do that sort of thing, Arthur?"

The knight was still scrambling for an answer when someone else answered on his behalf.  
"Because he hasn't asked me for advice lately."

Merlin had stood and moved toward them, clearly aware of their eavesdropping. He looked as if he couldn't decide whether to be angry or entertained.

"Ah, we were just... coming to tell you both you have the night off!" Arthur invented, internally wincing at his choice of excuse but sticking with it. "Well, now we've told you so we'll be on our way. Goodnight!"

Guinevere beamed at the two as she followed her swiftly-retreating spouse, clasping her hands in glee and practically skipping away.

"Well," Merlin turned to Sefa, both a bit red-faced, "shall we continue?"


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Sorry about the delay on this one, guys- and that it's such a simple one (it seemed much longer in my head). Today's my day off so I couldn't use the internet at work *is now hanging out in Panera*. My home internet won't be back up until next Saturday at the earliest :/ Anyway, Happy Solstice everybody. *leaves to weep*

* * *

"You didn't have to do this, you know."

Lancelot grunted noncommittally, continuing to lead the way.  
"I know the solstice has significance for you. You shouldn't be subject to the nobles' rowdy Christmas celebrations instead of practicing your beliefs."

Camelot had been flooded with visitors gathering to celebrate the holiday, though it had little if any meaning to them aside from an excuse to feast and make merry. It had only been due to Lancelot's intervention that Merlin had escaped a night of serving wine and escorting drunken highborn. How the knight had managed to persuade Arthur to let him off for the evening the warlock would never know.

"Here," Lancelot stopped, sweeping aside some bracken to reveal a hidden clearing where druids were already gathering.

Merlin paused, "I'm sure you'd be more than welcome to join us."

"Thank you," the other man smiled, "but I am a Christian."

The servant nodded, "Then I wish you a Merry Christmas- thank you, my friend."

"Happy Solstice, Merlin."


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: And one last mini-arc to finish out :)

* * *

"I don't know, Merlin- this is beyond my skill," he looked at the plans the servant had brought him. "I might be able to do the metalwork, but I've never been particularly good with leather. Maybe you should take this to the silversmith."

"That sanctimonious stick-in-the-mud? No, thanks. You just leave the leather to me- I've learned a thing or two over the years, no matter what Arthur may think," the thin man gave Elyan a sideways grin.

"Well, if you're certain..."

"I am. Now, how about we get to work?"

The blacksmith returned the smile. He hadn't been particularly close to the servant at first, but once Gwen had become queen and Elyan had spent an increasing amount of time out on patrol he had learned that Merlin was a fountainhead of information on how his sister was _really_ adapting to her new position. The servant had, on more than one occasion, discretely pointed out fellow knights who had gossiped about their new ruler or sent him pointed looks when Guinevere could use some time away.

Merlin truly was a great friend to his sister, and soon to himself as well- the two of them going on more and more patrols together as Arthur grew restless in his increased responsibilities.

Now they worked side by side, joking and laughing in the heat of the forge.

It took several sessions, ("The scrolling has to be _exactly _as I drew it." "Hm, doesn't fit- taper it a bit more, maybe?") but at last they had a finished item.

"It's beautiful," Merlin proclaimed, starry-eyed.

"Certainly _my_ greatest piece of work," Elyan agreed.

"Thank you, Elyan," he pulled out a small bag of coins and dropped it on the workbench. "Your payment."

"Merlin, you don't have to-"

"-and your Yuletide Cheer."

The mischievous glint in Merlin's eye as he placed his next bundle on the table caught the knight's interest.

"What's that?"

The servant untied the parcel to reveal several bottles which he began to name, turning them to display the labels, "Itching powder, sleeping draught, this one turns your hair blue.." The list continued until all of the substance had been explained and a predatory grin had spread across Elyan's face.

"If this doesn't help in your... _friendly competition_ with Gwaine and Percival, I don't know what will."

The knight looked faintly alarmed, "The king doesn't know about that, does he?"

The servant pshaw-ed, "As if Arthur knows even half as much as I do about what goes on in the castle."

Elyan had to admit that Merlin always seemed to be well-informed.

"And," the servant's voice lowered conspiratorially, "I have an idea about how to use that foaming potion that just might tickle your fancy..."


	23. Chapter 23

"Maybe I should've taken two trips," Merlin muttered to himself, barely able to see from the tiny hole in between the packages stacked in his arms. It only took one careless step and the presents shifted dangerously. The servant crashed against the wall, saving the royal favors from meeting the floor, but rendering him unable to proceed without dropping them. Why did Arthur have to have so many noble guests anyway- and did they really need more possessions? He was just about to use a touch of magic when half of the bundles disappeared.

"Percival! Good to see you," he beamed at the giant, righting himself now that his burden was light. "I can take those back now," he nodded at the parcels in the knight's grasp.

"What, so you can succeed in breaking them next time?" The bigger man teased. "No, I think I'll hold onto these. How did you ever expect to get up and down the steps to deliver these?"

"Well, there would be fewer of them by the time I needed to use the stairs," the servant reasoned, conveniently not noticing that Percival was claiming more of the boxes.

The taller man shook his head, smiling. Merlin reminded him so much of his little brother- especially in the way he constantly took on more than he should.

"Lead the way and then we can both head to the tavern- I need to get back at Elyan for that trick he pulled with the fake ale yesterday. I still can't figure out how he made it foam like that."

Merlin hid his grin behind the remaining gifts, "I couldn't say myself."


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Tomorrow's may be up late due to lack of internet, but Merry Christmas to all who celebrate :)

* * *

Leon stopped in his tracks, staring at the body sprawled out on the armory floor with a polishing cloth grasped loosely in one hand -the helmet he'd been working on having rolled a short distance away. His breath caught in his throat as he knelt next to the servant, about to check his pulse when he heard it- _snoring_. The knight let out a relieved chuckle. Merlin was asleep.

Small wonder, what with all the running around he'd been doing lately. The poor man probably hadn't slept for more than a handful of hours in the past three days.

He had just removed his cloak, about to tuck it about the servant, when he heard the armory door behind him and dropped it, effectively concealing the sleeping man. _Probably for the best._ Leon thought, leaving it be and shifting so he blocked as much of Merlin's lumpy presence as possible.

"Ah, Leon. I was looking for that useless servant of mine- have you seen him?"

The knight broke out into a cold sweat at what he was about to do, but consoled himself with affirmations that he was doing the right thing.

"Forgive me, Sire, but I sent him on an urgent errand. He'll probably not be back for some time."

"You sent Merlin?"

Leon wasn't sure how to interpret his sovereign's incredulity- disbelief that someone would entrust Merlin with an important task? Or simple surprise that _Leon_ had done so, knowing Arthur's penchant for needing the manservant at any and all hours?

"Yes, I'm afraid there was no one else available at the time."

The king nodded, looking as if he wanted to inquire further but ultimately thinking better of it.

"Well, when he returns please let him know he has the rest of the evening off."

"Of course, Sire," Leon bowed, relieved that he had inadvertently anticipated the monarch's orders rather than hindering them.

Arthur nodded and exited the room, smiling to himself. He had intended to give Merlin more chores- especially after catching sight of a familiar boot sticking out from behind a bench and hearing the soft snores- but had changed his mind upon seeing Leon trying so hard to look out for the younger man.

It _was_ the giving season, after all.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Merry (nearly) Belated Christmas! This would've been up this morning but ff wouldn't let me sign in :/  
Thank you so much for reading and reviewing- sorry I haven't been keeping up with replies in all this mess, I promise it's nothing personal!  
Anyway- this has been great guys and I should have a couple more presents ready for you soon after I regain internet at home :)

* * *

Merlin shifted nervously from one foot to the other, hovering outside the royal chambers. Clutched to his chest was a long, slim bundle- a present for Arthur made through his and Elyan's combined efforts. He'd just finished putting the last layer of spells on it last night in the armory, the energy expenditure causing him to fall asleep whilst polishing.

His face warmed at the memory of waking, covered in Camelot red, to find Leon completing his work. The knight had simply smiled and informed the servant he had the rest of the night off, but it was still embarrassing.

Clearing his throat and squaring his shoulders, Merlin walked in to find the king and queen just finishing up the breakfast he and Sefa had delivered not an hour past.

"Merlin," Arthur greeted, clearly surprised to see him, "didn't I just give you the morning off?"

"Ah, yes," he fidgeted.

"So why are you here, then?" The royal prompted.

"Well, you see I..." he gave up on explaining, simply sticking the package out in front of himself. "Here."

"You-" the blond blinked and coughed lightly into his fist. "You didn't have to get me anything, Merlin."

"I know," the servant agreed, now all-but pushing the object into his friend's arms.

"Just take it, Arthur," Guinevere advised, grinning at the two of them.

Hesitant fingers gripped the slender bundle, removing the fabric covering to reveal a red leather sheath with gleaming metal fittings. Arthur gasped at the beauty of it, staring closely at the fine etchings and patterns stamped into the leather. It almost looked like script the way the design flowed...

"It's for Excalibur," Merlin's shy voice interrupted his study.

_Excalibur?_ Ah, yes, the idiot had taken to calling his sword by that name, completely ignoring all protests. Not that he actually disapproved- it felt right, actually- but he still felt compelled to object.

"This is fine work, Merlin. Where did you find it?"

"Oh, em, Elyan and I made it together."

Golden eyebrows rose, thoughts escaping before he could rein them in, "I'm impressed!"

Merlin beamed at him, then stared at the floor and shuffled his feet awkwardly, "Glad you like it."

When the silence between the two of them began to drag on Gwen came to the rescue.

"We have a gift for you as well, Merlin," she looked pointedly at her husband.

"Ah, yes. I had meant to leave it for this evening, but I suppose now will do." Carefully placing the sheath on the table he moved over to the changing screen and dragged a chest out from behind. "I'll have someone bring this to your chambers later, but go ahead and have a look."

He would have been suspicious, but this was from Gwen as well so the servant stepped forward and flipped the lid open to reveal stacks of winter gear. New blankets, warm clothes, and even a fur-lined cloak were neatly folded to pack the chest to the brim.

"I..." his lips opened and closed a few times, words failing him. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "Can't have you freezing to death."

Guinevere had also risen from her chair, now enveloping her friend in a warm embrace. "Thank _you_, Merlin."

The warlock smiled, leaning down to whisper in her ear, "Your gift will have to wait, but for now I'll let you know that Arthur's new sheath will ensure he never bleeds so long as he wears it."

The queen turned her head and kissed his hair. She had known Merlin's secret for years now and had never regretted helping him keep it.

"Perhaps sometime soon you can tell _him_ that."

"I hope so too," he replied, smile growing wistful.

"What are you two whispering about?" Arthur inquired, now standing right next to the pair.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Merlin answered mischievously.

The king rolled his eyes, "Just get on with it before I change my mind and have you muck out the stables."

"Of course, My Liege," the servant gave an exaggerated bow and made good his escape.

* * *

That afternoon many poor families discovered mysterious packages outside their doors, opening them to find food and hardy winter clothing. The peasants had taken to calling it a miracle of the season, having no idea where the items had appeared from, and had promptly put the gifts to use.

Arthur had suspected this might happen. Well, Guinevere had, but it was the king who had Gwaine spy on the servant during his time off. No matter, he had prepared for this once his wife had mentioned the possibility. Thus that evening found him summoning the manservant to the stables.

"You can't possibly be expecting me to work in the stables _now_- there's no way I'll have time to wash before the feast!"

"Shut up and come here, Merlin," he moved over to the third stall, gesturing toward the roan mare within. "What do you think?"

The younger man cast a cursory glance at the beast, "Lovely. Now what's this about?"

Arthur sighed, "Take a better look than that, will you?"

Eyes wary, the servant slipped into the stall, greeting the softly nickering horse and petting her nose before giving a more thorough investigation.

"She's a fine animal, maybe even better than yours- in speed, anyway. Whose is she?"

"Yours."

"Pardon?"

"She's yours, Merlin."

"But- you've already given me a present."

"Which you then distributed to the populace;" he held up a hand to forestall excuse or denial, "this, on the other hand, is a gift you cannot sell or give away. She has the royal brand- as does the tack I had made for you."

"Arthur... this is too much, I can't-"

"Just accept it, Merlin," the king insisted, mirroring his wife's instruction from that morning.

"Thank you," the servant's voice was rough and he buried his face in the horse's mane to hide the tears in his eyes.

Arthur smiled and ruffled the servant's hair before turning toward the castle, calling over his shoulder, "Don't thank me yet- you haven't seen what you're wearing to the feast!"


End file.
